CANTO XNow by a secret pathway we proceed,Between the walls, that hem the region round,And the tormented souls: my master first,I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!”I thus began; “who through these ample orbsIn circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st,Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those,Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?Already all the lids are rais’d, and noneO’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake“They shall be closed all, what-time they hereFrom Josaphat return’d shall come, and bringTheir bodies, which above they now have left.The cemetery on this part obtainWith Epicurus all his followers,Who with the body make the spirit die.Here therefore satisfaction shall be soonBoth to the question ask’d, and to the wish,Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied:“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heartSecreted, but to shun vain length of words,A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.”“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fireAlive art passing, so discreet of speech!Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utteranceDeclares the place of thy nativityTo be that noble land, with which perchanceI too severely dealt.” Sudden that soundForth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fearI somewhat closer to my leader’s sideApproaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn.Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himselfUplifted: from his girdle upwards allExpos’d behold him.” On his face was mineAlready fix’d; his breast and forehead thereErecting, seem’d as in high scorn he heldE’en hell. Between the sepulchres to himMy guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,This warning added: “See thy words be clear!”He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot,Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful moodAddress’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?”I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’dThe whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his browSomewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were theyAdverse to me, my party, and the bloodFrom whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroadScatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each timeFrom all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an artWhich yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.”Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin,Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d.It look’d around, as eager to exploreIf there were other with me; but perceivingThat fond imagination quench’d, with tearsThus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st.Led by thy lofty genius and profound,Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?”I straight replied: “Not of myself I come,By him, who there expects me, through this climeConducted, whom perchance Guido thy sonHad in contempt.” Already had his wordsAnd mode of punishment read me his name,Whence I so fully answer’d. He at onceExclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD?No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eyeThe blessed daylight?” Then of some delayI made ere my reply aware, down fellSupine, not after forth appear’d he more.Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whomI yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern,Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.“And if,” continuing the first discourse,“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown,That doth torment me more e’en than this bed.But not yet fifty times shall be relum’dHer aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm,Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,Against my kin this people is so fell?”“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied,“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain—To these impute, that in our hallow’d domeSuch orisons ascend.” Sighing he shookThe head, then thus resum’d: “In that affrayI stood not singly, nor without just causeAssuredly should with the rest have stirr’d;But singly there I stood, when by consentOf all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d,The one who openly forbad the deed.”“So may thy lineage find at last repose,”I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot,Which now involves my mind. If right I hear,Ye seem to view beforehand, that which timeLeads with him, of the present uninform’d.”“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,”He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote:So much of his large spendour yet impartsThe’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approachOr actually exist, our intellectThen wholly fails, nor of your human stateExcept what others bring us know we aught.Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that allOur knowledge in that instant shall expire,When on futurity the portals close.”Then conscious of my fault, and by remorseSmitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou sayTo him there fallen, that his offspring stillIs to the living join’d; and bid him know,That if from answer silent I abstain’d,’Twas that my thought was occupied intentUpon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.”But now my master summoning me backI heard, and with more eager haste besoughtThe spirit to inform me, who with himPartook his lot. He answer thus return’d:“More than a thousand with me here are laidWithin is Frederick, second of that name,And the Lord Cardinal, and of the restI speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew.But I my steps towards the ancient bardReverting, ruminated on the wordsBetokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d,And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amazeThat holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfiedThe’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight:“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heardTo thee importing harm; and note thou this,”With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed,“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy lifeThe future tenour will to thee unfold.”Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet:We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle spaceWent by a path, that to a valley strikes;Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam.
Now by a secret pathway we proceed,Between the walls, that hem the region round,And the tormented souls: my master first,I close behind his steps. “Virtue supreme!”I thus began; “who through these ample orbsIn circuit lead’st me, even as thou will’st,Speak thou, and satisfy my wish. May those,Who lie within these sepulchres, be seen?Already all the lids are rais’d, and noneO’er them keeps watch.” He thus in answer spake“They shall be closed all, what-time they hereFrom Josaphat return’d shall come, and bringTheir bodies, which above they now have left.The cemetery on this part obtainWith Epicurus all his followers,Who with the body make the spirit die.Here therefore satisfaction shall be soonBoth to the question ask’d, and to the wish,Which thou conceal’st in silence.” I replied:“I keep not, guide belov’d! from thee my heartSecreted, but to shun vain length of words,A lesson erewhile taught me by thyself.”
“O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fireAlive art passing, so discreet of speech!Here please thee stay awhile. Thy utteranceDeclares the place of thy nativityTo be that noble land, with which perchanceI too severely dealt.” Sudden that soundForth issu’d from a vault, whereat in fearI somewhat closer to my leader’s sideApproaching, he thus spake: “What dost thou? Turn.Lo, Farinata, there! who hath himselfUplifted: from his girdle upwards allExpos’d behold him.” On his face was mineAlready fix’d; his breast and forehead thereErecting, seem’d as in high scorn he heldE’en hell. Between the sepulchres to himMy guide thrust me with fearless hands and prompt,This warning added: “See thy words be clear!”
He, soon as there I stood at the tomb’s foot,Ey’d me a space, then in disdainful moodAddress’d me: “Say, what ancestors were thine?”
I, willing to obey him, straight reveal’dThe whole, nor kept back aught: whence he, his browSomewhat uplifting, cried: “Fiercely were theyAdverse to me, my party, and the bloodFrom whence I sprang: twice therefore I abroadScatter’d them.” “Though driv’n out, yet they each timeFrom all parts,” answer’d I, “return’d; an artWhich yours have shown, they are not skill’d to learn.”
Then, peering forth from the unclosed jaw,Rose from his side a shade, high as the chin,Leaning, methought, upon its knees uprais’d.It look’d around, as eager to exploreIf there were other with me; but perceivingThat fond imagination quench’d, with tearsThus spake: “If thou through this blind prison go’st.Led by thy lofty genius and profound,Where is my son? and wherefore not with thee?”
I straight replied: “Not of myself I come,By him, who there expects me, through this climeConducted, whom perchance Guido thy sonHad in contempt.” Already had his wordsAnd mode of punishment read me his name,Whence I so fully answer’d. He at onceExclaim’d, up starting, “How! said’st thou he HAD?No longer lives he? Strikes not on his eyeThe blessed daylight?” Then of some delayI made ere my reply aware, down fellSupine, not after forth appear’d he more.
Meanwhile the other, great of soul, near whomI yet was station’d, chang’d not count’nance stern,Nor mov’d the neck, nor bent his ribbed side.“And if,” continuing the first discourse,“They in this art,” he cried, “small skill have shown,That doth torment me more e’en than this bed.But not yet fifty times shall be relum’dHer aspect, who reigns here Queen of this realm,Ere thou shalt know the full weight of that art.So to the pleasant world mayst thou return,As thou shalt tell me, why in all their laws,Against my kin this people is so fell?”
“The slaughter and great havoc,” I replied,“That colour’d Arbia’s flood with crimson stain—To these impute, that in our hallow’d domeSuch orisons ascend.” Sighing he shookThe head, then thus resum’d: “In that affrayI stood not singly, nor without just causeAssuredly should with the rest have stirr’d;But singly there I stood, when by consentOf all, Florence had to the ground been raz’d,The one who openly forbad the deed.”
“So may thy lineage find at last repose,”I thus adjur’d him, “as thou solve this knot,Which now involves my mind. If right I hear,Ye seem to view beforehand, that which timeLeads with him, of the present uninform’d.”
“We view, as one who hath an evil sight,”He answer’d, “plainly, objects far remote:So much of his large spendour yet impartsThe’ Almighty Ruler; but when they approachOr actually exist, our intellectThen wholly fails, nor of your human stateExcept what others bring us know we aught.Hence therefore mayst thou understand, that allOur knowledge in that instant shall expire,When on futurity the portals close.”
Then conscious of my fault, and by remorseSmitten, I added thus: “Now shalt thou sayTo him there fallen, that his offspring stillIs to the living join’d; and bid him know,That if from answer silent I abstain’d,’Twas that my thought was occupied intentUpon that error, which thy help hath solv’d.”
But now my master summoning me backI heard, and with more eager haste besoughtThe spirit to inform me, who with himPartook his lot. He answer thus return’d:
“More than a thousand with me here are laidWithin is Frederick, second of that name,And the Lord Cardinal, and of the restI speak not.” He, this said, from sight withdrew.But I my steps towards the ancient bardReverting, ruminated on the wordsBetokening me such ill. Onward he mov’d,And thus in going question’d: “Whence the’ amazeThat holds thy senses wrapt?” I satisfiedThe’ inquiry, and the sage enjoin’d me straight:“Let thy safe memory store what thou hast heardTo thee importing harm; and note thou this,”With his rais’d finger bidding me take heed,
“When thou shalt stand before her gracious beam,Whose bright eye all surveys, she of thy lifeThe future tenour will to thee unfold.”
Forthwith he to the left hand turn’d his feet:We left the wall, and tow’rds the middle spaceWent by a path, that to a valley strikes;Which e’en thus high exhal’d its noisome steam.